


Horse Trouble

by skoosiepants



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22868572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skoosiepants/pseuds/skoosiepants
Summary: Bucky’s immune to big, blond and dumb.orClint steals a horse.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 26
Kudos: 422





	Horse Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Original posted on Tumblr. Somehow, it didn't occur to me until I was editing this that I made the horse big, blond & dumb, too. 
> 
> Lissadiane is the only reason I ever write anything. All hail.

Bucky’s immune to big, blond and dumb. Totally immune. Steve might have the constitution of a god now, but ninety percent of the time he’s still all big eyes and bad decisions--Bucky’s got a bullshit meter  _ honed  _ for these kinds of things. He can ignore Steve’s looming sulks like a champ, this should be no different.

“Okay,” Barton says, coming down off his perch on the breakfast bar to pout at Bucky from a different angle, “but what if I already stole the horse?”

Bucky’s hand pauses mid-spoonful of cereal. He arches an unimpressed eyebrow at Barton. “You stole a horse.”

“Well, he wasn’t going to let me buy it!” Barton looks  _ extremely  _ affable, teeth gleaming in the harsh kitchen lights, which is, Bucky knows, entirely an act.

Bucky very carefully returns his spoon to his bowl. There’s no clatter or splash; he’s all controlled motion. He’s a wall of strength. Barton isn’t going to break him down. “Barton,” he says, jaw clenched. “Why?”

“I don’t know if you know this, Barnes,” Barton says in a soft, mock-conspiratorial tone, “but some people are just assholes.”

He’s not really giving him a reason, but Bucky can extrapolate. He nods, resigned and says, “Then what do you need me for exactly?” It’s a rookie mistake to ask--he knows it as soon as the words slip out, and he can tell  _ for sure _ by the way Barton’s eyes light up.

“I need you to help me hide the body.”

*

_ Hiding the body,  _ apparently, means finding somewhere to stash a tall, angry palomino beast with big teeth and bigger hooves.

Bucky has no idea what to do with it, but he knows it’s his problem now. He knows it by the way Barton grins at him and pats the horse’s neck and the horse whips its head around to try and bite him.

Barton’s gonna lose fingers. This is what’s going to happen. Bucky’s a  _ sucker. _

“How did you get it here?” Bucky says. And by here, Bucky means the jet hangar, and that’s the only good thing about this, so far--Stark’s gonna lose his shit about all the poop, and it’ll be hilarious.

“Her,” Barton says, wisely aborting another pat with a sheepish grin, “and I used pure Barton gumption.”

“You bribed her.”

“I bribed the shit out of her,” Barton says, nodding earnestly. “She likes candy corn.”

“Don’t give a horse candy corn.” Bucky doesn’t know a whole lot about horses, but no one should probably be eating candy corn.

So. She needs food, water and lodging, preferably hidden away where no angry, asshole farmers can find her. They’ll need to talk to Friday, probably--which Bucky  _ hates-- _ and Bucky still can’t believe he let himself get talked into this mess.

But then Barton stuffs his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans, rocks back on his heels, all  _ aww-shucks _ shoulders and a  _ pretty fucking _ calculating flirty tilt to his chin, and Bucky realizes-- _ shit,  _ his big, dumb blond immunity apparently only works when he doesn’t want to sleep with them.

*

The horse has a stupid name that Bucky refuses to use, but it’s not like it  _ matters,  _ because the horse hates Bucky just as much as she hates Barton. And Friday’s a snitch, so now Stark’s shouting about paddocks and companion goats and lawsuits, and Bucky decides he’s only in charge of not letting Barton get mauled, which is apparently where he is right now: all because Barton has a nice ass and a terrible personality.

Steve has a  _ worse  _ personality, that’s his only consolation.

Bucky clasps Barton’s hands, circles his wrists and squishes his palms together, and says, “She wants to eat you.”

“She’s not going to eat me,” Barton says, but his  _ face  _ says he’s not exactly sure.

“Congratulations,” Stark yells at them across the hangar, voice echoing, “you’ve kidnapped Death’s pale horse.”

“She’s  _ golden,  _ you dick. She’s an angel!” Barton yells back, but he lets Bucky keep his hands still, and only fidgets his feet.

Neither of them say it’s unneeded, not when Steve the demon-whisperer is rubbing her velvety nose and grinning stupidly at her at least twenty feet away from them. He’d been  _ delighted,  _ and only flashed a righteous frown when Barton told him where he’d found her, hobbled in a dirt field, owned by a vicious drunk.

Barton waggles his eyebrows and says, “See?”

_ Unfortunately,  _ Bucky totally sees.

Barton says, “Do you want to get lunch?” and to his credit, he only lets his surprise show for the barest flicker of a second when Bucky says, “Yes.”

*

Lunch is grilled cheese and soup in the compound kitchen, since Friday won’t let Barton leave until the “horse situation” is taken care of,  _ legally,  _ and Bucky doesn’t care one way or the other. 

Bucky has a personal bubble he doesn’t care about either, because even though it’s a  _ dumb fucking idea,  _ he’s trying to get out of the habbit of denying himself crap he wants: corn dogs, fresh cut flowers, Dog Cop reruns, and apparenlty Clinton Francis Barton.

He can tell it’s throwing Barton, too, and that’s just a fucking bonus.

Bucky sits down right next to him at the table instead of across and farther away. He nudges the back of their hands together when he thanks him for heating the soup. He leans over him to grab the parmesan, using a hand on his shoulder to steady himself. He steals a sip of Barton’s water, when he’s finished his own.

Barton gets big, bewildered eyes, and Bucky doesn’t even try to hide his grin.

Barton says, faint, “You’re fucking with me.”

Bucky doesn’t exactly  _ want  _ to be honest, but he’s pretty sure he should be. He says, “No,” and, “Finish your sandwich,” and when Barton just gapes and says, “You  _ are,”-- _

Bucky reaches out with greasy fingers and tugs on Barton’s chin and fits their mouths together to show him.

*

Barton kisses like he’s not sure he should be kissing, which is everything about Barton: all bravado and self-assuredness until someone actually calls him on it. The only thing Bucky’s seen him do without hesitation is shoot, and Bucky isn’t sure he wants to know what that says about his past.

Now, though. Now, Bucky shakes him a little, keeps his grip firm until Barton’s shoulders relax, until his lips go soft, until he breathes out through his nose. His teeth click Bucky’s when he opens his mouth, but then he’s sliding a hand over Bucky’s back and their heads are angled just right and he laughs a little, backing off enough to smile against his lips, when Sam says, “Is there a  _ reason  _ we have a goddamn horse now?”

Sam also says, “Oh, man, why?” and, “Hands where I can see ‘em,” and, “Why am I still here?” faintly, and mostly to himself.

Bucky lets Barton go, finally, and Barton slips his arms off Bucky, dazed, and Bucky nudges at his plate and says, “Finish your sandwich, Barton.”

Barton blinks at him. Then grins; a big, dumb blond grin, the kind of grin Steve uses before he gets into massive, terrible fights for fun, and the effect is  _ totally different _ on Bucky coming from Barton. His chest gets tight, and his mouth goes dry. This is going to be so much trouble.

He can’t wait.

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes I write stuff on [tumblr](http://pantstomatch.tumblr.com).


End file.
